Bring Me Back to Life
by You'veBeenJayed
Summary: Kyle's POV. Haven't you always wondered the technics of how Kenny died and came back to life? Well, experiencing it now, I'd have to say there's alot more going into it than I wished I ever found out. K2, Style.
1. Prologue

**This came to me randomly late one rainy night...**

**xD Seriously, it was like 10 o' clock and pouring out. Still is.**

–

Death is a funny thing.

Well, not so much funny as...ironic. But irony can be funny sometimes, too, right? Or does it just suck? Yeah, I think I had it right that last time.

People experience death every day. Everyone witnesses death at least once or twice in their lifetimes, not including their own inevitable one.

But, you see, with most people, once they die, they never come back to life.

That's why nobody understands how Kenny McCormick can die and come back to life over and over again. In fact, after a while, everyone got so used to it that nobody really comments on it anymore. They all just wave it off like the normal occurrence that it is and act like all is normal when he returns the next day or week or so.

It makes me almost sad to see how they can't grip the importance of his deaths; how nobody even mourns—not a single bit—when he passes away. No tears are even thought of to shed for him. I guess I can't say much, though, I used to be the same way.

I used to be just as ignorant as the rest of them. Blissfully unaware. Oh, how I wish I could be the same again.

You see, another thing that actually intrigued me about everyone's reactions when Kenny died and returned, was that nobody ever asked about what he had seen. I suppose they were all just afraid of what they might hear. They knew that sometimes he went to Heaven and other times he went to Hell. And that was all they were content in knowing.

Sure, I, too, was curious. Horribly curious. But I never wanted to ask. For some reason it always seemed like an awkward subject. Whenever I had tried bringing up his deaths, however, Kenny would inwardly glare at me, smile brightly, say I didn't need to know about those kinds of things, and change the subject as if the previous one had never been brought up.

But now that I know... I wish I had never bothered asking him ever.

Whenever Kenny died, he was actually doing some hell of a good deed. As for going to Heaven and Hell and the amount of time it took him to return to Earth—well, that's where it gets a little more complicated. You see, there are certain rules and restrictions that apply...

But these things are a little too complicated to explain at the moment. Don't worry, you'll understand everything in time. Just be patient and I'll explain it all to you.

You also may be wondering about how I, Kyle Broflovski, know so much information about Kenny and his deaths.

You might be thinking that I shouldn't know all—if any—of it. But I do know it all, every single detail about it. You might be thinking I'm lying or making all this up. But I'm not; this is too much for me to make up. You might be thinking I'm Kenny's stalker—in life and death. But there you are also wrong. I am most definitely not his stalker! But I am his partner.

Here, let me sum it all up for you in one easy little simplification...

I, Kyle Broflovski, die and come back to life.

–

**So, tell me what you think! I know it's a bit confusing (and really short), but all will be explained in due time, as Kyle mentioned. Meanwhile...**

**Read and Review!**


	2. Stan Skips School

**So I wrote this while having a bad day at school. Hope it's good! I'll be introducing a couple more characters in this chapter (not to mention the actual story part instead of Kyle just talking to everyone).**

–

_Before_

It was a routinely normal day at school. Well, normal for South Park anyway. Which is pretty average once you step over the armies of cats and guinea pigs and avoid the new substitute running past you, screaming, "I can't take this anymore!"

In retrospect, she'll probably either become a hooker, or move away until years from now she has a mental breakdown from all these memories catching up with her and come back for revenge or something. That is, _if_ she doesn't kill herself first.

Yup, just the usual day here.

Everyone thought it was bad in Elementary School, but with High School...it hardly compares. Yes, it's _that bad._

"Excuse me!"

I move out of the way just in time to avoid being knocked out of the way by Craig, Tweek following close behind. They're holding large cages and trying to lock the cats up inside them. Once this area of the hallway was cleared of cats, Craig stood and shouted to the other end of the hallway.

"Your stupid pussy army will never eat our superior guinea pigs, fatso!"

I looked over and saw a glaring Cartman at the other end, trying to console his hissing cats while at the same time get rid of the masses of guinea pigs in his own area.

"Shut the hell up, Craig! They will, too, because guinea pigs are gay!"

Craig flipped him off before grabbing Tweek's arm and the cages and walking away. I just roll my eyes, avoid the rodent-fest, and manage to slip into my next period class a few minutes early and in one piece.

I glanced to the empty seat in front of me and frowned slightly. Kenny must of died again. I shrug it off knowing he'll probably be back tomorrow or in a couple of hours. The late bell rang and my frown deepened as I slowly realized Stan is MIA*, too.

Usually, he comes at the same time as the bell rings, a goofy grin on his face after having a four-and-a-half minute make-out session with Wendy, having less than a half a minute to get to class. I found it a little ridiculous, but never told him. There was a time that Wendy seemed like she was getting better somewhere around Middle School, but once High School started, forget it. I don't even know how one kid can stand so many heartbreaks from the same bitch at one time; yet always goes back to her.

Speaking of which, she's here—I saw her earlier—but haven't seen Stan all day. I wonder what happened to him.

– – – – –

I did end up seeing Kenny later, however. I was out at around eight o' clock, grabbing a candy bar at the cruddy old gas station. I grabbed the candy I liked best and quickly got out of there once I paid for it. That clerk always creeped me out—he looked like a pervert.

Unwrapping the candy and taking a bite, not paying attention to much really, I took a few steps away from the building. The next think I knew, I was knocked into the slimy, brick wall of the gas station with a fist again my chest and crystal blue eyes glaring carefully into my own shocked ones.

"What the—" I started, but was cut-off by his own curse.

"—_hell_ do you think you were doing!? You almost got killed!" For some reason, as I looked from the speeding away car back to Kenny, I felt odd. Like butterflies were scaling my stomach and threatening to make me hiccup them out. This seemed too cliché and couldn't of been what I was actually feeling, I thought, so instead of speaking, I just gulped down a multi-colored wing and nodded.

Kenny took his elbow off my chest and slouched back, avoiding my gaze for some reason. He turned to the side. "Sorry. I was just worried that...and didn't want you to... Uh, anyway. You okay?" he asked.

I cocked my head. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." I brushed myself off before looking at him again. There were other questions that my mind wanted to ask, but some sort of force compelled me that ask _this _one: "Did you die earlier?"

Kenny nodded slightly, still not looking—or even facing—me. "Yeah. That's why I wasn't at school," He finally looked up, giving me a small smile—my idea of him warning me to just let it drop and not worry about it.

"Oh, I figured,"

"Right, yeah. Now that you're okay, I have to, uh, g-go," He began walking away, giving me a short wave. His pace seemed a little rushed and his actions were nervous and anxious. Just what was he hiding?

That's when I remembered another question I had for him. "Oh, wait, Kenny!" He paused, glancing over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow for me to continue. "Have you seen Stan? He didn't come to school today, either,"

Kenny's entire expression changed. I thought he looked anxious before, but now he was downright awkward. He shook his head quickly, eyes facing the ground a second before he turned away. "Nope. Sorry, haven't seen him," He walked a little ways more, before his shoulders rose some and he paused again. "Uh, but he's probably just sick. So maybe you shouldn't check in on him." This caught my attention, but before I could ask anymore questions, he turned the corner and was gone.

– – – – –

It was weird, but for some reason, the way Kenny acted—the fear in his voice, his stiff walk, the worried look in his eyes—I couldn't help but think about Stan the rest of the day.

The next day at school, there was still no Stan. Kenny was there this time though. But it seemed like he was avoiding me the entire day, not even meeting my eye when I tried talking to him. And the rare times he actually did talk back, it was some one- or two-worded mumble.

I just gave up after a while, sighing and keeping an eye on the clock. The day couldn't have gone any slower.

– – – – –

I knocked on the door of Stan's house and it's seemed like it never took his mother so long to answer it. I sighed in relief once I noticed her mascara still in tact and no tears streaming down her face. So Stan couldn't of been as deathly ill as Kenny made it seem. Maybe Kenny was just screwing with me.

"Oh, hi Kyle. Come to see Stanley?" Mrs. Marsh asked me.

I smiled that innocent, sweet smile I kept stowed-away for just the adults. They were all suckers for a good, halo-wearing child, and so easy to manipulate. It was never a wonder if the kids were smarter than the adults. There wasn't even a comparison.

"Hi, Mrs. Marsh. Yeah, I did," She moved to the side to let me in and I instantly headed for the stairs.

"He's in his room."

I nodded to her. "Okay, thank you." Smile, smile...aaand, she's gone. I rolled my eyes and turned my head away to walk up the stairs. I knocked a few times on the door before slowly opening it.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting—maybe a snotty, pale, weak little boy that looks only like the slowly dying carcass of someone who used to be my best friend—but what I saw, wasn't any of that at all.

In fact, the black-haired "sick-o" looked just fine!

Stan smiled up at me from his bed, shutting off the television in his room and setting down the remote. "Oh, hey dude. What's up?" He patted the bedside next to him and I stood by his bed, but didn't sit.

"'What's up'? What do you mean? Why weren't you in school yesterday? I was worried!" I scolded him. Sometimes, I felt a little too much like a nag. I think I got it from my mom.

Stan just shrugged. "I, uh, didn't feel good. Had a...stomach ache, yeah." He took one look at the expression on my face and sighed. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd buy it either. Sit down, it's not like I have some deadly disease, dude,"

I laughed and sat next to him. His bed always was comfier than mine. I liked it, especially since it always seemed to be warm. The warmth even multiplied when sitting next to him. "The way Kenny was acting, I thought you did,"

He gave me a weird look. "Kenny?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Forget it. So why'd you miss school?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I was kind of...uh, avoiding Wendy,"

"Why?" I could easily sense the time to act like the good, caring friend coming up.

"Because I broke up with her."

Now that I was not expecting. "You did? Wow. I never thought you had it in you, dude," I smirked and he rolled his eyes, pushing me a little. "Why'd you break up with her?"

He shrugged, waving this off a lot calmer than I expected. "Because she's becoming a total prude, dude." As if she hadn't been her entire life. "I decided I couldn't take it anymore and broke up with her. Funny thing is, I don't even care all that much really."

I smiled at him and clasped his shoulder. "Good job," I stood and put my hand out to him. "We still have the rest of the day to waste. Wanna get an ice cream?"

He nodded and took my hand to lift himself up. "Sure! Let's go!" He kept my hand in his as he dragged me down the stairs, only pausing to put on his jacket and say bye to his mom.

If only I had any idea of what would happen going out with him this day, I would have never suggested getting ice cream.

–

**Cliffhanger! Well, somewhat. Man, this chapter was a lot longer than I was expecting it to be. Anyway, the real beginning starts next chapter. Sorry for the lateness. I was going to put the events in this one, but I decided this was long enough.**

**Read and Review!~**


	3. The Man, the Killer

**I'm listening to one of my favorite Japanese singers, Anna Tsuchiya, while writing this. Funny, I have no idea what she's saying, but it sounds nice! Also, if you'll pay attention, I put a lot of foreshadowing for certain—big—events in here.**

–

You always know when someone is following you. It's like a sixth sense—something short of a 'Spidey Sense'--that everyone has. But the annoying thing is, whether you think someone is following you or not, the problem is always trying to spot them while looking like you have no idea so as to not provoke them.

I had this feeling the entire time Stan and I walked around town after getting our ice-creams. But no matter how many times I glanced over my shoulder, I still couldn't see anyone other than the usual townsfolk. It was starting to really bug me. I would tell myself to just ignore it and that I was just being paranoid, but that's what they always do in the storybooks and movies; and almost a hundred percent of the time someone ends up being killed because of it.

There was no way I was ignoring this.

I was so caught up in my paranoid feeling that I hardly realized when Stan's hand entwined itself with mine. At the time, I had just glanced down offhandedly at our hands, not sure what to think of it. I let my eyes wander inconspicuously to his face, but he was acting as if all was normal, like we did this all the time, and I didn't mind it too much, so I allowed it to continue.

It wasn't long before day turned to dusk—had we really been out walking and talking so long?--and we both had to go home. The feeling lessened some throughout the day, but never truly went away. Now that it was getting dark, I became nervous and just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

Stan smiled over at me when we reached the ice-cream shop again—our separating point. "Tomorrow's Saturday. Wanna stay over tonight?"

I really did want to, but... "Nah, I can't. My mom told me next time I want to stay over at someone's house, I have to let her know a day in advance," I felt kind of stupid having so many restrictions and childish rules to listen to.

Stan laughed and nodded knowingly. "Alright. Then tell her you're staying over at my house _tomorrow _night, 'kay?"

I nodded and smiled at him. "Okay,"

He turned and waved back at me. "See you later, Ky!"

I opened my mouth to speak, but abruptly stopped myself. The feeling was back, ten-fold. I looked around quickly, scanning every area I could. There was nobody. Absolutely no one. This should have made me feel secure, but only managed to make me more cautious. With nobody on the streets, anything could happen, and nobody would be there to help.

Maybe I'd just been watching too many movies.

Yeah, had to be it. I watched after Stan, walking away into the sunset. After a couple of moments of silence and nothing happening, I figured I could relax. I let my shoulders slump, the tension ease away, the worry disperse. I began turning around to head to my own home before I got yelled at...and that's when I saw the disaster.

It was out of the corner of my eye. Happened at the very last possible second. I wouldn't even have seen it if I was two seconds faster when turning around.

But when I did see it, I spun around so fast I almost got whiplash.

Finally, I saw the man. He was nearing Stan. Luckily, they were both only a few blocks away from me so I could catch up easily if I hurried. Instead of chasing after the man in play-day sight and risk having him turn on me and do whatever he intended to do to Stan, I ran down an alleyway alongside the closest building. Using the buildings as cover, I caught up with Stan—who was mere feet away from the man—in a matter of seconds. But seconds can be precious when dealing with a killer, or pervert, or homicidal maniac, or whatever the hell was with this guy.

I glanced between the man and Stan, deciding on what to do exactly. Just jump out? What else was there to do?

Instead of jumping out, I calmly walked out of the alleyway and up to Stan. Seeing the strange guy out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was a little surprised at my appearance. I chose to ignore him and walk beside Stan—who still had yet to notice him. I swear, this kid had no sense whatsoever.

"Woah! Dude, you scared the shit out of me! Where'd you come from?" Stan exclaimed, staring at me.

I laughed nervously at him while grabbing onto his arm and leading him away quickly. "Sorry, dude. I, uh, just wanted to walk you home. I think I might've left something there." I looked him directly in the eyes to make sure I had his attention before shooting a fleeting glance back at the guy, who had at some point ducked behind the other side of the building. I could still see his shoes though, black with brown laces, regular round-ended boots.

Stan cocked his head. "I didn't see you leave anything. I didn't even know you brought anything." Yup. No sense at all. He can't even take a hint.

I rolled my eyes and looked back to where the guy was. He was peeking around the corner of the alleyway now, probably expecting us to begin walking again. So, I figured I'd give him what he wanted. I looked back to Stan and tugged on his arm again, forcing an annoyed smile and speaking through my teeth.

"Yes, I did. Now let's go. It's getting dark."

Stan blinked. "You okay dude?"

"Yeah, of course I'm okay! Now let's _go_!"

He looked like he was about to pull away again, but I made sure to keep a tight grip on his arm. He frowned, looking from his captured arm to my probably freaked out expression. "Are you sure? Because you're acting really weird..."

I sighed in agitation. "Yup. Dandy." I leaned in close to his face, an idea forming in my head. "Actually, you just never gave me a good-bye kiss,"

"Wh-what?!"

I wanted so badly to scream at him to just turn the fuck around and see what my problem was himself, but then the man would know we knew he was there—if he didn't figure it out already—and probably act. I couldn't allow that to happen, so instead I continued.

"Yeah, you know. You take me on a date and don't give me a kiss?"

"Uh, I-I don't k-know what you mean, Ky." Was he blushing?

"Of course you do," I forced another smile at him, but had a feeling it was only creeping him out more. "And I wanted to give you yours..." I leaned my face down to his until our cheeks were brushing and whispered into his ear, pulling him closer. _"You're an idiot. There's a guy following you. We need to go home, now."_

And Stan...poor, innocent, ignorant, non-thinking, Stan... What does he do? He turns around full-force and looks around, pulling away from me when turning, and calls out the fucking stalker. "We're being _stalked?!"_

I wanted to kill him if I wasn't so scared that this guy might do it first.

Just as I figured he would, the man stepped out of his hiding place and into plain sight from underneath the streetlamp. Seeing him full-faced, he didn't look like what I expected. He was dressed casually, in a black T-shirt and jeans, jacket draped around him with the collar pulled up from the chilly night air. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark from the lighting and he looked to be around his late-30's. The worst thing about him was probably that sadistic smile on his face that sent shivers up and down my spine.

"Well, looks like you caught me." There was nothing different about his voice than anyone else's.

Stan and I were frozen to the spot.

"I wasn't sure who to choose earlier, but now you've both made it oh so easy for me. Because now I've got you both," His smirk grew and he lifted his head up enough for me to see his wild gray eyes. "Lucky me."

"Wha..." I gulped, surprised at how shaky my voice had sounded. "What do you want? Money?"

The man shook his head, smile never wavering or leaving his face. "No, see I want something a little...better than money." He took a step towards us and for the life of me, I couldn't force myself to take a step back. The man took another step forward and by that time I realized Stan was in the same frozen position as I was.

If neither of us thought of something fast, we were going to be screwed.

"Maybe you know what I'm speaking about, hm?" He took something out but kept it low, never drawing his eyes away from Stan and I. "Any guesses as to what?" He chuckled when neither of us answered. "You'll find out soon enough. Guess I'm a lucky, lucky boy tonight," He held up the object and it shone in the lamplight. It was a butchers knife.

Oh yeah, we were totally screwed.

He didn't get any closer to us, but walked around us instead. I didn't like him being behind us. I wasn't able to see him.

"So now the question is, who to choose first?"

I shivered again, my fingers twitching. Finally, some feeling came back into my thawing body and I spun around—just in time to have a knife held at my throat. I gulped and stopped instantly.

The man smirked at me. "How 'bout you, redhead?" He took a hand and messed with some of my hair. I flinched; which only seemed to excite him more.

"S-stay away from him, y-you freak!" I heard Stan yell from beside me. The man's eyes flickered from my face to his, smile growing wider.

"So you boys lovers or what?" Neither of us answered, so he continued, putting an arm around my neck with the knife still held at my throat. "Maybe you'd like to go with me, redhead, hm?"

I glared at him, but it had no effect. I was wishing so badly to have some ninja fighting powers all of a sudden and kick the knife out of his hand, flip over his head, and knock him to the ground. But, life isn't a movie scene where the main characters always win with their magically-obtained abilities, so I had no such luck.

He pulled my hair and I whimpered in pain against my own will. He leaned his head close enough to mine that I could smell his rank, alcoholic breath.

"W-wait!"

The man pulled back and his grip loosened some on my hair. He looked back over to Stan. "You can wait your turn," he said.

I heard Stan take a deep breath. "It was me who you were after first, right? So wouldn't you much rather have me than him?" My eyes widened and in my head, I was screaming _no. No, no, no, no, no. Not Stan._

_Don't be a hero, Stan._

I saw the man's smirk grow. The knife pulled away ever so slightly from my throat and so did his grip from my hair. I took this chance to punch him squarely in the face. He stumbled back, one hand still holding the knife, the other to his bleeding nose. This made him angry and I suddenly wondered if that was the greatest idea.

"I was going to let you boys off easy, but now that little fucker redhead here went and decided to be tough, I'm going to have to do this the hard way." He threw the knife behind him, uncaring of where it landed, and reached inside his coat for another object. This one had struck fear right to my heart and I swore it stopped beating for a few seconds. He was holding a gun, pointed right at my head. "And redhead will be the first to go."

The man pulled the trigger with next to no warning and a loud bang resonated off the empty walls of the buildings around us, echoing through the dark streets.

It was like a move scene, where time slows down and only you realize it. You can see the bullet nearing you, but just can't move fast enough out of the way because your mind is too focused on flashing every moment from your life before your eyes. You can see your killer staring at you with the wide, swirling eyes of madness and you try with all your might to remember his face always. And because this sight is too much for you, you shut your eyes tightly and wait for the inevitable as time speeds up again.

But what you don't see in that short moment of your eyes being shut, is your best friend since kindergarten jumping in front of you and taking the bullet.

I felt a warm liquid splash onto my face and my clothes and all I wanted to do was scream, but my throat was super-glued shut, so all I could do was stare with my mouth dropped open. I saw Stan fall to his knees in front of me before landing face-first on the ground. I looked up to the man—the _killer_—just as he dropped the gun on the ground and ran for it.

My first instinct was to run after him, tackle him to the ground, and beat the living shit out of him for doing this to my friend. But Stan was my first priority, and so I shakily stumbled over to his already lifeless form and fell to my knees by his side. I turned him over so I could see his beautiful face and laid his head in my lap, closing those blankly staring blue eyes, and petting his bloody black hair.

Then I closed my eyes and held him close.

But I never cried. No, never cried even once.

–

**Sad ending to this chapter, huh? I know, I know. But I also felt it kind of droned on too much. Sorry about that.**

**One thing, I'm still debating on making this a K2 or a Style in the end (hinthint). So review which you'd prefer to see!**


	4. Welcome to Hell

**I tried hypnotizing myself with those self-hypnotize videos on youtube, but whenever I got about a quarter or half way through one, I'd start bursting out laughing for no reason. Guess I can't be hypnotized, xD**

–

"_Stan...please don't go..."_

"_Why couldn't it have been me?"_

"_If only I knew you were going to do that!"_

"_This is all my fault."_

"_Stan, please, I'd do _anything_..."_

"Did I hear you say, 'anything'?" I looked up from my babbling into Stan's chest and saw a figure standing beside me. I instantly became defensive, thinking it was that horrible man come back to finish what he said he would. But I slowly came to realize that this person couldn't possibly of been him—this person was shorter, younger-sounding, but his features were blocked out by the darkness of night. The light from the streetlamp behind us gave him an eery look, but I didn't feel too unnerved.

I sniffled, even though I had yet to cry still. "Who are you?" My voice was weak from talking so much—how long had we really been here? Why hadn't anyone come out when they heard the gunshot? Didn't anyone know that my best friend had just been killed!?

I heard the person chuckle and they held out a hand to me. By some compelling force, I took it and allowed myself to be lifted up, away from Stan. Standing this close to the person, I could make out a better figure—he looked no older than me—but his face was still shrouded.

"Nevermind that, Kyle. I'm here for other, more important, reasons,"

Wait. "How did you know my name?"

The kid shook his head. "I know lots of things, Kyle. Now are you going to listen to the proposition I have for you, or should I take my business elsewhere?"

I thought about that for a second; but apparently it must have been a lot longer than that because the boy began turning around, waving back at me. "Well, if you must think about it..."

I grabbed his arm. "Wait! No, tell me about your proposition," I told him. He turned to face me and even though I still couldn't see anything in his face, I could sense he was smiling. Grinning ear-to-ear for some reason. I was starting to wonder who this kid was and what he could do for me.

"That's great, Kyle!" I removed my hand from his arm, no longer feeling safe around this person. "Now for my proposition... You want your friend Stan back, right?"

I nodded, suddenly very interested, listening carefully to every single word that came out of his mouth as if my life depended on it. "Yes. I'd do anything to bring him back,"

"So I heard, so I heard... Well, you do realize Kyle, that 'anything' can mean a wide variety of things, right?"

"Yes, but he's worth it," My eyes darted to the ground where Stan's hand was lying lifelessly by my foot and I shuddered. "He was my super best friend. We knew each other since Kindergarten. He killed himself for _me_; he's worth doing anything to get back."

"Well, dealing with life and death is a _very_ serious matter, you know," The kid said and I could feel him watching me intently. "But if you insist... I believe I can help you out. But, you must know, the consequences could be dire. Messing with death is like messing with the devil himself." This time when the teen smiled, I saw his pearly teeth gleam in the dim light. What was he so happy about? Did he think all this was a joke?

"I don't care. As long as I can bring Stan back,"

"Well...if you say so," He held out his hand to me. "Wouldn't you like to know any more about the consequences? Like, what will happen to _you_?"

I didn't even hesitate. I looked him straight where I figured his eyes would be and shook his hand. "I don't care what happens to me. As long as Stan is alive again. Whatever the deal is, you have one."

The kid shook my hand back and I felt a weird sensation. It was sort of like the feeling you get when your arm falls asleep and you have 'creepy-crawlies' under your skin. I pulled my hand away roughly and ended up stumbling backwards, thankfully avoiding kicking Stan in the head.

"Wha..." My voice didn't want to work and neither did my eyes. My motor skills were shot and I felt myself swaying. The bug feeling spread from my arm until my entire body felt numb and uncomfortable. I leaned against the wall of the nearest building and looked at the teenager. "Wha joo... do t'me..." I managed to ask.

The other just laughed lowly. "You wanted to bring Stanley back, correct?" All I could do by now was stare up at him through half-lidded eyes. "Well, we have to go get him first."

"Wh...where're we...goin'?" I began sliding down the wall until I was sitting.

"Why, Kyle, where else?" He chuckled. "To Hell."

And then I blacked out.

–

Hell certainly didn't look like I thought it would.

I mean, where were the flames and lava and tortured souls? All I saw, looking around, was a room covered with black and blue wallpaper, a television, but only one door—I'd check that out in a little bit—and a few other things. But this place looked no different than a regular teenager's bedroom.

I stood up and stretched my arms and legs, cracking my neck. My entire body felt stiff. After taking a few minutes to walk around, I finally decided to try the door. The knob felt warm, but the sort of warm like it had just been used, not the kind as if the so-called flames of hell were waiting on the other side of it.

I took a deep breath, turned the knob, and opened the door.

Once outside, I realized it still wasn't as bad as I kept expecting. I looked around in confusion. It was like I was in some cave. It was warmer than it had been in South Park, but definitely not burning my skin. There were stalactites above me and a few lava stones scattered around the ground. The cave stretched pretty far back—so far I was unable to see the end. I don't know what was keeping the cave so lit up—even if it was dimly so—but decided not to question it.

I took two steps outside the bedroom. The second my foot landed on the second step, I was rushed forward—it wasn't so much like the ground beneath my feet was moving, but the scenery around me was being forced backwards. I shut my eyes and screamed.

Finally, everything stopped and I fell forward. I saw the flames that I was looking forward to earlier appear in front of me. I heard the screaming I expected to hear earlier. I don't know where I was before, but I knew now that I was definitely in...

"Why, hello there, Kyle. Have a nice nap?" I spun around at the familiar voice from earlier to see a teenage boy.

He had perfect tan features, silky black hair, and penetrating red eyes. He held out his hand to me and I took it, stunned. I opened my mouth, but no words to came, so I only gaped at him.

"Welcome to Hell, Kyle."

I had just been welcomed to Hell by none other than Damien, son of the Devil.

–

**I know this chapter was a little short and that the story seems like it may be moving a little slow—but cut me a break! I'm trying! It'll get better soon enough—I promise!**

**So far the votes are: 3 votes for K2, 1 vote for Style.**

**Read and review, please! I still haven't decided completely yet, so go ahead and vote (those of you who haven't already). By next chapter, I should have my decision!**


	5. Deal With the Devil

**Man, rejection really sucks. Especially when you never asked and he avoids you afterwards anyway. Lol, aw well I guess.**

**Now, let's see how Kyle's doing, shall we?**

–

Damien had me follow him around the wonderful world of Hell as we talked. It was hard to stay focused on what he was saying with all the creepy screaming and random people walking around. But to avoiding have the exact memory of what Hell looked like etched into my mind, I decided to turn and look at the son of the devil.

I had been stalling this question, but had to know. "So where is Stan?"

He turned and smirked at me. "Patience, Kyle. Where do you think we've been going? I told you we had to get him, didn't I?"

I nodded and kept my mouth shut after that, letting him drone on about stuff that had nothing to do with why I was here. It somehow didn't surprise me how calm he was around all this stuff. After all, he lived here. His _father _is the _devil._

Yeah, that still sent shivers down my spine.

We came to the edge of a cliff. The cliff wasn't very high up and I had a clear view of all the people down below. There was some random guy I didn't recognize barking orders at them. There was a large gate separating the people on the grayed ground from being on the reddish ground that Damien and I were standing on.

"What is this?" I asked. When I got no response, I glanced over to see Damien walking away, down towards the people. I followed after him at a distance.

When we finally got down far enough to be at the same level as the people behind the gate, I watched Damien walk over to the man—who I figured was in charge of the gate—and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded and yelled out a name to the crowd that made my insides tighten with nervousness and excitement.

"Stanley Marsh!"

It took a few moments for him to come up here and Damien called me over. I obliged, waiting by his side. In the mean time, I asked him a question that had just struck me.

"Why is Stan in Hell?" I asked, frowning at the crowd where Stan had yet to appear from.

Damien glanced at me with his sparkling red eyes. "Because I want him to be here. It works out for our situation. He was originally targeted to go to Heaven, but I...situated it to wear he would come here," He smiled at me. "Our deal wouldn't work if he was stuck in Heaven."

I nodded, feeling somewhat uneasy. Did I just screw things up for Stan? If he was supposed to go to Heaven and I made it so he has to come here...to this horrible place...

I shook those thoughts from my mind. Regardless, it was too late. He was in here, I was here, and Damien was going to fulfill his proposition. ...Whatever that was, I still wasn't completely sure of.

Finally, Stan came through the crowd, a blank look on his face and in his eyes. This worried me to no end. The man at the gate allowed him to go through and Damien waved him over, me standing stiffly at his side.

Here was Stan, my super best friend whom I'd just seen die however long ago, standing right in front of me at the gates of Hell.

But there was something off about him. It was like he was...zombified or something. His eyes weren't even blue; they were black. I wanted to pull him into a hug, feel his warm body alive again, but forced myself not to. Something just wasn't right. This wasn't Stan.

"What's wrong with him? What did you do?" I glared at Damien.

Damien stared back at me with a cool expression. "I didn't do anything, Kyle. Relax. He'll be back to normal soon enough." He snapped his fingers in front of Stan's dazed face and Stan blinked a few times. His pupils returned to normalcy, eyes becoming blue again, and his expression changed. He looked around at his surroundings, then to Damien, his eyes finally settling on me.

"K-Kyle?" he choked out.

I smiled, wanting to cry in happiness, but no tears came. I hugged him tightly, happily feeling his warm arms hugging be back just the same.

We pulled away and I noticed he was crying. "Kyle! What happened? Where the hell are we? Where'd that guy go?"

I was about to answer all his questions when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I glanced over to see Damien looking at Stan with a smile on his face. "All will be explained in due time, Stanley. But, first of all, I suggest we all go back to my room."

–

It hadn't taken us long to walk the distance back to Damien's room—which I found out was the place I woke up in. He told us this was the one place where his father couldn't bother him no matter what. I didn't understand why that really mattered now, but decided it wasn't really important enough to ask.

Damien offered us something to eat and, as much as I didn't trust it, I took some of the pizza rolls and munched on them hungrily. Stan turned them down, saying he wasn't hungry. This sort of surprised me, but then I remembered he was technically dead right now. And dead people didn't eat. I guess. I mean, why would they need to?

Finally, Damien sat down on the edge of his bed, Stan and I sitting side-by-side on a small blue couch across from him. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

I gulped the last piece of pizza roll I had been eating and nodded. "You're going to bring him back, right?"

The red-eyed boy nodded. "Of course. So long as you keep up your end of the deal, which I suppose I should explain as well." I was about to retort, saying I didn't care what the consequences were, but I kept my mouth shut, figuring it would still be good to know what I was getting myself into

Stan looked at us with a confused look. "Wait, what? What deal?"

Damien sighed in frustration—this made me realize I really didn't want to see someone like him ticked off—but let out a breath. "You'll know everything if you just shut up and let me explain, Stanley."

Stan shut up.

He clasped his hands together and seemed to brighten up in a split second. "Alright! First, we'll start with what happened to you, Marsh." Stan looked up at him wearily. "You're dead. That pedo shot you when you jumped in front of Kyle here to save him; which you did, ironically," I don't think Stan really got the irony in that, but I certainly did. "Do you remember that?"

Stan knitted eyebrows together in thought, slowly nodding. "Y...yeah, I remember. So he really did kill me," He looked up. "But where's the bullet hole? How am I still here?"

Damien shook his head. "There's no evidence of where you were killed, because you're in your spiritual form. As for still being 'here'--since I'm guessing you're referring to Earth and the living plain, you are not 'here'. You're dead, like I said, and you're in Hell."

"Ohh, okay, that makes sense," he replied.

I cocked my head at him, shocked that he was so calm with all this information.

"But, if I saved Kyle...then why is he here?" he asked, pointing to me.

A smirk formed on Damien's lips and I swore the flames in his eyes danced a little more. He seemed like he was having fun with all this. That sadistic bastard.

He leaned forward towards us. "That's a very good question, Stanley. Kyle here, all bent up about your death, has decided to make a little deal with me."

Stan's eyes widened and he turned to me. "You _what?_ You made a deal with the son of the _devil!?"_ he yelled. I put my hands up in defense, but before I could say anything, Damien cleared his throat and got both of our attention.

"Now for what the deal entails," Damien went on, looking directly at me. "In order to bring someone back to life, someone else must die. A life for a life."

I frowned. "So who's gonna die?" I wasn't sure I really liked the idea of having to kill some other poor innocent person just to selfishly save my own best friend, but I wasn't going to turn back on the deal now.

"You are."

–

**Damien is fun to write about, xD. I've never really put him any of my stories before until now. Don't worry—Kenny will be in later chapters. Possibly the next chapter even.**

**Read and review!**


	6. So Cold

**Alright! Next chapter is finally here! Sorry for the lateness! I've been real busy (should be doing 8 pages of notes and an essay right now, too, but this is more fun). I'm liking this story, but still not quite sure what I'm going to do with it once I get past some parts..**

**Oh well. I'll cross that bridge when I get there!**

–

Stan was up in a second. From my position, I couldn't see his face, but I knew he wasn't happy. Especially if he was daring enough to jab the all-powerful son of the devil in the chest and get in his face and yell at him.

"You want to _kill _Kyle!? Why do you think I'm even here?! I didn't just in front of that fucking bullet for kicks, you bastard!" he yelled, arms going up characteristically. He always expressed his talking by moving his hands or arms.

Damien merely sat on the edge of the bed, non-moving, expressionless. He didn't look angry or surprised from Stan's outburst at all. He just sat there and allowed Stan to continue on with his ranting. I wasn't sure if I should be scared about this or relieved. You could never tell when it came to Damien.

Before Stan could say anything more, I gently grabbed his arm. I was still sitting behind him on the couch. "Stan...stop," I told him softly. I felt his body physically calm down some. He was shaking as he turned back to look at me, hands moving forward.

"But, Kyle! I can't let him do that to—"

"I want him to," I said calmly.

Stan immediately froze. He stood between me and Damien, eyes darting between us, looking like he wasn't sure what to think or say anymore. I felt bad for him. None of this was his fault. We wouldn't even be here in this situation if it weren't for that damn pervert! But it was too late for that now. I wanted Stan alive again, to live out the rest of his happy life, and I would do anything to make that happen—even if it meant giving up my own life.

I looked straight past Stan and into Damien's eyes. "I'll do it. You already have a deal. Let's just get this over with."

Damien nodded. His eyes flickered to Stan but were instantly back to me. "Alright then," He smirked and sent shivers up and down my spine. "You have a deal."

"So what do we do?"

"Lie down on the couch," he ordered, standing up. We were both completely ignoring Stan at this point, who was standing there, gawking and helpless. I did what he told me. "Now close your eyes and don't think of anything. Just clear your mind." It was extremely hard to 'clear my mind' when my heart was racing, there was a knot in my throat, my palms were sweaty, and I was inwardly freaking out, but I eventually accomplished it well enough for him to be satisfied to continue.

I felt cold hands touch my forehead and my mind numbed to it. I let out a slow, shaky breath on instinct. Another cold hand traced a line across my throat, making me shiver.

"W-wait! Don't do this!" Both hands were taken off of me. I wanted to open my eyes to see what was happening, but I found I couldn't move at all. I at least knew it was Stan.

"Do not interrupt, Stanley!" Damien growled. There were some noises and I heard Stan yell my name one more time—it sounded like he was sobbing. The hand was back on my forehead. "Don't worry about your surrounding, Kyle. I didn't do anything to Stanley. I just covered his mouth and bound him to the bed so he cannot interrupt us or stop the process." I wanted to nod, but instead just sat there.

He moved a finger across my neck again, one hand always on my forehead. Then, the hand on my forehead spread into three fingers—one touching each side of my temples, one at the top center of my forehead. The hand at my neck moved down to my chest. I could feel the cold fingers even through my shirt and jacket.

The fingers traced a line down my chest and then made a line across the lingering feeling of cold. I realized that it was a cross.

When the cross was finished, the breath in my chest hitched. I couldn't breathe anymore. I couldn't even feel my heart beating. It felt as if the cold was seeping through my skin and spreading throughout every part of my body, starting from the heart. It crept up my neck and I wanted to freak out, but I couldn't.

I couldn't do anything.

Before the cold reached my ears, I heard the door to the bedroom slam open. I wanted to wince from the unexpected noise, but as you already know, I couldn't. There was yelling.

"Stop!"

"--gotta stop it!"

"--me through!"

The cold was reaching my ears and my mind was numbing. Who was that? I thought...Damien tied Stan up.

"--le! Kyle! Wake up!"

That...voice. I recognized that voice. It...it was...who was it?

I felt warm hands finally reach my body, but it was too late. The cold was permanent now. It was spread throughout my entire body. The hands were so warm...they were familiar...

Oh, yeah. I remember now.

I felt the cold claws creep across my mind, gripping it to never let go as I fell into unconsciousness. A final thought echoed through my mind before I went. Was it real? Or just a memory?

_Kenny._

–

**I know, this chapter is short and I left it on a cliffhanger, sort of. But it's fun to keep you guessing, bwahaha! :D**

**So is Kyle dead? Will Damien fulfill his end of the deal? Will Stan be brought back to life? Why was Kenny there all of a sudden?**

**Read and review and you should find out all of these answers via the next chapter!**


	7. The GetAway

**Wrote almost this entire chapter during one day in school! Shows how much I pay attention, huh? Hah, anyway, it may come off as a little confusing, but I tried to make it as clear as possible. It'll be even clearer next chapter, hopefully.**

**Guess what? There's Kenny in this chapter! I finally dragged him back in!**

–

It's really weird once you think about it. Life, death, Heaven, Hell. They're supposed to be polar opposites, but they're really not all that different from each other. Life leads to death, Heaven caused Hell; because you can't survive with your opposite.

Then again, I don't have much room to call things 'weird' considering I grew up in the weirdest place on Earth, South Park. Especially since I just allowed myself to be killed by the son of the Devil to let my best friend come back to life.

You may be wondering how I'm capable of any thought since I'm dead. Well, I have no idea. My eyes are closed and I can't determine where I am or what I'm even lying on—nothing?—but I can tell you this: it's not Heaven and it is definitely not Hell (I would know, I just came from there, ironically).

I tried moving my fingers. At first, nothing happened. But finally, slowly, my fingertips twitched just a little and that caused a whole new chain of events to happen to make me regret ever moving in the first place. First of all, I felt a faint feeling of being tugged by two different people or things in opposite directions. After that, pain shot through my body like the bullet through Stan's heart. I wanted to scream, but my lips felt sewed shut, my throat on fire.

_I hurts, it hurts! Make it stop!_

My eyes opened and so did my mouth—gasping for air. The fire in my throat calmed and spread through to the rest of my body, stopping the pain. I felt cold, stone ground underneath me and damp air around me as I quickly sat up. However, the only thoughts I could manage was, _What the hell just happened!?_

I rubbed my eyes, slowly pushing myself to my feet. My legs were wobbly, but they held. Looking around, it didn't take me long to realize that wherever I was, it wasn't Earth.

I was on some rock covered in moss in some forest somewhere. It was night, I guess. There were no stars, just a really full, shining moon set in a light purple and blue sky. Mist surrounded the trees.

I took a few shaky steps forward. It was so calming here. Something about the atmosphere made me want to curl up in a ball on that rock and fall back to sleep, but I knew I couldn't do that that, so I kept moving forward.

As soon as I reached the start of the trees, I jumped at a hand on my shoulder and over my mouth. Whoever this was shouldn't of been worried about me screaming—I wasn't a girl. On instinct, I rammed my elbow back into the person's gut while stomping on their foot as hard as I could. They let go immediately, groaning in pain. I spun around, ready to give whoever a piece of my mind.

My jaw dropped and my gaze softened instantly. "Kenny?!"

Kenny stood, holding his stomach in pain, making me feel suddenly embarrassed. "Jeeze, Kyle. What the hell? Since when are you so strong?" he grumbled, shaking it off and lightly smiling at me. I was so excited to see a friend and actual person that I hugged him tightly. He seemed caught off-guard at first, then hugged me back warmly and quickly. "We have to run. Now." He grabbed my arm and dragged me after him into the trees—which, I noted, moved physically away from us when we neared them.

"Where are we going?" I yelled after the blonde. He didn't answer, just turned back and put a finger to his lips. I stayed quiet after that. I thought I heard something behind us, but didn't think much of it. It was probably just the trees moving back into place.

After running for what seemed like forever—but was probably only thirty minutes—we stopped at the side of a cliff. By now, I was out of breath; tired, weak, lost, and confused—I was not a happy camper. I needed answers.

I watched Kenny squint and touch the rocky cliff side. I was getting fed up. Just as I was about to open my mouth to snap at him, something clicked. The entire flipping cliff side opened up! Yes, you heard it right. Surprised the hell out of me, but after all I'd been through in the last...however long it's been, I wasn't too phased.

Kenny took another nervous glance behind us before shoving me inside, closing the door? behind us. It was pitch black and I couldn't see anything but a dull light way up ahead.

I never considered myself to be claustrophobic, but in this place, I felt myself starting to freak out. My breath came out labored and, even though the cavern was oddly chilly, my palms began to sweat. My knees wanted to buckle, so I leaned against the wall.

"Kyle?" Kenny sounded from in front of me. He reached up and trailed his hand down my cheek before grabbed my arm gently. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, then remembered he couldn't see me. "I-I'm fine..." I felt his other hand on my forehead and started thanking the lord for the darkness so he couldn't see me blushing.

Wait, why was I blushing?

"You'll feel better when we reach the end." He grabbed my hand and shoulder and led me carefully forward. "C'mon,"

It took us another thirty minutes to reach the actual cave. It was brighter in there, lit up by something I couldn't tell. But, wow, it was completely, absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful.

Let me attempt to describe it to you.

There was a tall mound of stones, leading up one side of the cavern to who-knows-where. A stream drifted by connected to a waterfall that fell from the stones. The water was so clear and blue it looked as if it were literately glowing.

The water wasn't the only thing keeping the cave lit up. I eventually noticed patches of glowing green stuff covering the walls of the cavern. I recognized it from something I read a while ago. It's called Goblin's Moss.

And all I managed to get out was, "It's...wow."

Kenny chuckled, taking his hand off my shoulder, but, I noticed, kept his other hand in mine. As great as this place was, it still didn't keep me from forgetting my questions. And I had a lot of them.

I turned to Kenny and narrowed my eyes. "You have some things to explain, Kenneth McCormick." Yeah, I went there.

Kenny got more serious and nodded, leading me to the side of the magical-seeming stream. He let go of my hand and hopped onto one of the naturally-placed stepping stones that went across the stream to the other side. He hopped from one to the other, until he reached the middle, with ease and balance.

"Follow me," he told me with a goofy grin.

I rolled my eyes. "Kenny, this isn't a joke. I need to know what's going on!"

"And I'll tell you all I know while we're on the rocks. Now, come on," He hopped to another stone and I groaned in frustration. Well, might as well play his stupid game. I carefully stepped onto the closest stone, almost losing my balance and having to wave my arms around like a flailing idiot to catch my balance.

This was stupid.

I repeated this a couple more times before getting a little better at it and following a few stones behind him. I watched as he continued hopping the stones ahead of me without any of my troubles. He finally stopped and balanced on one foot (show-off), looking at me.

"So, ask away, Ky," he told me.

I nodded, wondering where I should start. "Where are we?"

He shrugged. "My favorite get-away place. It's some planet whose name I don't exactly know. I just know how to get here. Beautiful, ain't it?"

"Yeah, it is. But why am I here?"

"Because I brought you here,"

"What? Why? How?"

"When Damien 'killed' you—which, by the way, we're going to have a talk about the stupidity of that later—he tried bringing you back down to him in hell to control you," He shook his head. "You really didn't pay attention to all the consequences, did you?" I shook my head, feeling nervous and stupid. He sighed. "I didn't think so. I thought you of all people would be smart enough to look at all the details before signing the contract."

"I never signed a contract, though," I said, cocking my head. "Just made the deal."

His eyes widened. "You didn't? Then we may still have a chance..." he trailed off.

"Chance for what?" He looked like he was about to answer, but something stopped him. He hopped over towards the stone closest to the one I was on and lowered his voice immensely.

"Stay quiet and follow my lead."

"Wha—" He clamped a hand over my mouth and turned me around slowly. My eyes widened as he led me behind an indent behind the wall. When we were there, I asked him in a whisper, "Wh-what the hell are those things?"

"Damien's pets. Hellhounds."

That was enough to send me shaking. "Why are they here? Is this what we were running from earlier?"

Kenny nodded. "Yeah," He turned and looked at me with a mix of sympathy and determination in his light blue eyes. "And they're after you." My heart froze over in fear. It was official.

They already sent the hounds of Hell after me.

–

**Ooh, bad ending. Maybe a little rushed too. Sorry! I wasn't sure how to end it, so I ended it on that note. Tell me what you think of Kenny's little get-away cavern planet place thing! I like it! If you want a picture of what the water and part of the stream in it looks like, I can show you a picture I saw and based it off of.**


	8. Taking the Blame

**I hate testing oh so much. I take this HUGE test called the FCATs (Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test)--for english and math. We take one on one day and the other on the next. They're a pain in the butt and SO boring! We get 80 minutes for the first part, then 80 minutes on the second part (in ONE day, then the other subject the next day).**

**Well, enough about testing. Nobody cares about that stuff anyway, I'm sure. On with more Kyle and Kenny and stuffs!**

–

It didn't take long for the dogs to find us. They sniffed Kenny and I out almost immediately after we took cover behind the rock wall. As nasty and scary as they looked—drool dripping down their chins, eyes narrowed, large, sharp teeth bared—they made no move to attack us.

Kenny stayed in front of me even though I felt I didn't need the protection. After all, if I was willing to sacrifice my life for one friend, why not do the same for another? Even though I had to admit, I was pretty fucking scared.

One dog slowly came up to us, glaring and snarling at Kenny. It tried passing him to me, but he stepped in its way. I winced when the dog snapped at him.

"K-ken, I don't want you to get hurt," I stated, not nearly as firmly as I would've hoped.

The blonde in front of me shook his head and scoffed. "He can't hurt me." He kept his eyes trained on the dog in a tension-filled stare-off. I shifted nervously behind them, wondering about the sanity of Kenny if he though a _hell hound_ couldn't _hurt_ him.

The dog made its move first. It somehow managed to completely avoid Kenny and lunged at me. I suddenly realized I was too scared to move. I closed my eyes just as I felt the dog collide into me. When I opened them again, I almost crapped my pants.

The hell hound was staring right at me.

It was sitting on my chest. It felt pretty heavy, but not as heavy as I expected. Its yellow eyes were glaring not two inches from mine. I could literately smell the rancid blood and meat on its breath and couldn't help but sense that that was going to be me next—its delicious Jew dessert. But the dog made no move to bite or claw at me. All it did was just...stare. For some odd reason, I couldn't move or look away. It was so...mesmerizing.

"Kyle! Are you okay?" I heard Kenny yell my name, but it seemed so far away. "Kyle?!" I blinked and looked away from the dog, who began snarling, and wondered how long I'd been out of it.

I looked up to see Kenny wresting with the other hell hound. My eyes widened and my mouth opened—the dog was opening it's gigantic jaws, ready to bite his entire face off—but it was too late. The jaws clamped. Kenny was a goner.

Then something happened that made my own jaw drop.

Instead of crumpling to the ground with his face a bloody pulp, nothing seemed to happen to Kenny. Well, not exactly—something did happen, but definitely not what I was expecting.

He was like a hologram. Kenny phased momentarily, as if there was a glitch in his system, before pulling back together. The dog fell through the other side of him, whimpering from landing on its snout. So _that's_ what he meant when he said the dogs couldn't hurt him.

While the other dog was holding its hurt nose, Kenny quickly walked over to me and literately kicked the hell hound off my chest. The dog whimpered and went to the other to lick its nose. They weren't nearly as vicious as they came off as at first.

Kenny helped me up, watching me with concerned crystal blue eyes. "Are you okay, Ky? She didn't scratch you, did she?" That thing was a _she_?!

I shook my head. "I don't think so," I answered.

"Good." He grabbed my hand to lead me somewhere, but I didn't budge, yanking it back. "What is it? We gotta go before Damien tracks his dogs and finds us."

"I don't care." I didn't at this point. "I just want to know what the hell is going on." I stared at him, challenging him to deny my request. "And I'm not moving until I get some answers," I spoke through gritted teeth; I was tired of being pulled around mindlessly—it only left me with more answers.

Kenny let out a long, drawn-out sigh, as if his next words pained him so much he had to take as long as irritatingly possible to say them. I waited all-too-patiently to the side, tapping my foot, glaring fully at him with my hands on my hips. I could feel my short temper rising from every second he squandered searching for the right words.

Finally, instead of saying anything at all, he put his hand on my cheek and my hands fell from my hips. I looked up at him with confusion, but stayed silent to see what he was doing.

He had a strange look in his eyes. Soft, caring, regret...for what? Maybe I was reading him wrong. He got closer to me, face nearing mine. I was so caught up in my thoughts I hadn't realized how close he was until I blinked. I forced the blood to stay out of my cheeks and for my breath to stay stable as I continued to stare back into his eyes, body stiff.

Kenny sighed and pulled away, hand falling away from my cheek. He looked to the side for a moment and I took that chance to gasp for breath, hand over my chest where my rapidly beating heart was placed. When he turned back to me, I quickly straightened up as if I was completely calm.

"Sorry..." he whispered and I suddenly became concerned.

I stepped towards him, putting my hand on his shoulder. "For what?"

"For everything. All of this," he motioned towards the hell hounds, who were sound asleep on the solid ground near the waterfall.

I shook my head. "None of this is your fault, Kenny," I averted my eyes now. "If anything, this is all my fault for—"

"No!" My eyes snapped back up to Kenny's in surprise at his sudden fury. "You couldn't help any of this! _I_ should've been able to stop you from going to Stan's; _I_ should've been there before Stan got shot; _I_ should've been with you the entire time; _I_ should've protected you!"

I stared at him speechless. "Kenny, what are you talking about?"

He ignored me, continuing his animated rant. He pulled away from me, pacing back in fourth with his hands pulling at his messy blonde hair. "When I heard him talking... I should of known that the death wasn't the gas station... I had a feeling it was with Stan... Sick! Of course that would make you want to visit him even more! I should've done something else... Dammit! How could I be so stupid!? Now everything's going how he wanted!"

I grabbed Kenny mid-step by his shoulders, standing in front of him. He stared back at me with a frantic look. "Kenny, please, calm down. Just...explain slowly what you're talking about. I don't understand. Who is 'he'?"

Kenny ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. "Damien. When I died before school, I ended up going to Hell. I overheard him talking to his father about being bored with me, about wanting someone else to be his servant. But Satan refused. Damien got mad and I heard him saying he was going to do it anyway without his dad's permission, and that he wanted _you_, Kyle.

"When I came back to life, I knew that Damien had to kill you first. So when I saw that van almost run you over, I figured once I saved you, that was it. That you were okay." He took in a deep breath of air before continuing.

"But I was wrong. So, so wrong. When you said Stan wasn't at school, I didn't want you going there. I didn't know if he was sick or not. I just wanted you to go home, stay home. But, no, you didn't." He locked eyes with me and I felt slightly guilty. "Then that guy killed Stan...it wasn't you, but it was Damien's perfect opportunity to jump in and manipulate you into making a deal with him to—"

"Trade my life for Stan's," I mumbled, looking down. "So he killed me."

Kenny nodded gravely. "Yes. I tried to stop him once I found out what happened, but I got there too late. So while your body was dead, Damien tried to take your spirit, but I managed to snatch it from him and bring you here." He looked over at the dogs again. "It didn't take him long to figure that out and he isn't very happy about it,"

I took all this information in, slowly coming to an understanding—a vague one, at least. I nodded after a few seconds. "So this is all Damien's fault."

"Yes," Kenny answered. I suddenly felt anger build from my stomach to my chest. That cruel, no-good, heartless, son of the Devil! He did all of this—and just for his amusement!

Kenny must of felt my rage from my grip on his shoulders tightening. He rubbed his hand on my cheek to calm me. It worked, moderately. I suddenly grabbed him and hugged him as tightly as I could. I wanted to cry, I wanted to cry so badly, but no tears would come. This only made me more frustrated as I gripped his jacket tightly in my fists.

He rubbed my back in comfort and tried to shush me and sooth me. He lied his chin on my head and continued to just hold me.

I shook my head back and fourth in a sort of denial of all the events that had happened all too quickly, all of them catching up to me now. "What am I going to do Kenny?"

Kenny just rubbed my back. I felt his head shake back and fourth on my head. "I'll do everything I can to help you, Kyle," he whispered. "I promise."

–

**Bwahaha! I torture, I torture. You thought there was going to be a kissing scene somewhere in here, didn't you? Well, you guessed wrong! Don't worry, it's itching at me too. This was just an informative and very fluffy chapter.**

**Damien's dogs are pretty incompetent, actually. I find that funny, xP. **

**Read and review!**


	9. The White Walls of the Crazy House

**Sorry all for the long wait! I...kind of sort of might of got grounded for a bit. Hah... Oops. Oh well. Anyway! I am ungrounded and so here is the long awaited next chapter!**

–

Gone.

Just like that.

_Poof. _

One second I was standing there, holding Kenny and drifting off in his arms, feeling his warm hands rubbing my head; the next, he was gone. One second, I was standing next to a glowing stream in a beautiful cavern; the next, I'm in a large, seemingly endless white room—of course, that could just be an optical illusion. One second, I'm listening to the soft noises of the waterfall and snoring hell hounds; the next, there's nothing at all. No sights, no people, no sound. Just...nothing. But me and white.

Maybe I really was going crazy.

...Yeah. That had to be it. I was going mad and seeing white all of a sudden. Definitely. Or maybe I just passed out and this is just some screwed up dream? Maybe _all_ of this is just some screwed up dream? Stan getting shot, Damien killing me, Kenny taking me to that weird world... It would explain a lot.

I stood there in silence until I was finally able to convince myself, even though I knew deep down that it was a load of crap. That there was no way I was dreaming.

I decided that just standing still wasn't going to get me very far (obviously), so I took a few tentative steps forward, hands outstretched, like a blind person without a cane or a dog. I didn't trust the white-wall illusions—there was no way I was going to run into a wall and break my nose. That's the last thing I needed.

I continued walking until I found a wall, maybe ten steps from my original spot. My heart skipped a beat as panic began to slowly seep into my mind and take over.

Managing to calm myself, I slowly walked along the wall. After what seemed like...oh, hell, I have no clue. Just a long time. I realized that the wall looped into a circle. A large circle. About fifteen feet straight across.

I groaned and slid down one of the walls, feeling myself physically crumple into a little ball. This was it. They had finally admitted me to the crazy house. Here was the white-walled room to prove it. I was officially insane. A loud, obnoxious noise rang out through the circular room. It echoed off the walls so much I had to cover my ears just to block the most of it out. It hardly helped.

I kept searching around for whoever—or whatever—was making that horrible noise. Then, finally, it hit me. It was _me _who was screaming at the top of my lungs. But I didn't care. No, not even as my throat felt like I was swallowing razors. I was all alone. I was trapped. I was going to die—no, I was going to spend an eternity of immortality in here. Just me, myself, and the white walls around me. Where was Kenny? Where was Stan? Why was this all happening to me?

_What did I do?!_

"That's quite a racket you're making there, Broflovski."

I almost jumped out of my skin at the voice. I instantly stopped screaming. My ears were ringing, my throat was scratchy and sore, and my eyes...well, still tearless. I doubt I'll ever cry again at this rate. Not that it matters much.

I didn't look up. I didn't move. There was no need to confirm the voice I already recognized. There was only one being in the universe with the ability to make my entire being physically grow cold with fear.

Damien took a step forward. I could see his shoes and his pants as he stepped up in front of me. I frowned. Blue jeans and black and white converse? Since when did Damien wear anything but black? Still, I refused to look up. I caught the bottom of his shirt and my anxiety level went up just a little—about twice as much as Tweek's would be. Blue T-shirt with an open brown and red jacket.

A finely tanned hand outstretched to me and I just stared at it. This was a trick. I knew it had to be a trick—another trap?—but I took the hand anyway and allowed it to haul me to my feet.

From there, I stared into the deep, caring, shining blue eyes I thought I would never see again. I was so happy, so excited—trick or not, I had fallen for it—that I didn't know what to do. I just stood, my hand still in his, and stared, jaw slightly dropped, heart leaping through my throat to strangle any words that attempted to push through.

He chuckled. If I had been paying any attention at all, I would of noticed that dark twinkle in his eyes that was never there before, that dark tone in his supposedly normal, cheerful laugh. But I wasn't paying any attention—I was too happy.

I hugged him tightly. "Stan! What happened to you? Are you okay? Where are we? How did we get here?"

Stan wrapped his arms around me. "Whoa, Kyle. One question at a time, you know I'm not that fast," he laughed again. I laughed with him, feeling somewhat insane. I felt like a mental patient talking to their imaginary friend. But he had to be real. He just _had_ to be.

"I missed you so much, Kyle," he whispered in my ear. I kept on smiling and nodding, still holding him tight, afraid that if I loosened my grip even a little, he would disappear in my arms.

Stan finally let go and pulled back, hands still around me. He stood there looking at me with a strange look in his eyes.

"Are you okay, Stan?" I asked worriedly.

He nodded and smiled that warm smile that could make any girl on the cheerleading team faint. "I'm fine, Kyle. I'm just...so happy to see you."

"Me too. I thought I was going to be stuck here forever... Do you know what's going on?"

He shook his head and leaned in closer to me. I felt my breath hitch in my throat and suddenly felt out of breath. What was he doing?

"Stan...?" I asked, surprised to hear how small my voice sounded. His eyes swirled, mesmerizing me. They almost reminded me of that hell hound that attacked me earlier. My entire body felt weak and wobbly, as if I had just finished climbing Mount Everest. What...was this?

I didn't like this feeling at all.

"Ssh..." He shushed me calmly. "Don't think about anything else," His voice was just above a whisper. My eyes lids dropped, but I couldn't draw my eyes away from his beautiful...blue...swirling eyes.

Before I could register what was happening, Stan's lips were on mine. His lips were cold, I noted, aside from the rest of his warm body. I couldn't react. I couldn't move. I just stood there, unmoving, unthinking, unable to do much of anything. It felt as if he was kissing the very breath out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was freaking out, thinking about how I had to push him away and protect myself, that _this wasn't Stan._

But I couldn't do a single thing. And this time, there was nobody around to save me.

I blacked out.

–

**So...that was certainly...weird. Yeah, weird, to say the least. Anybody else confused with this chapter? Haha. So I wonder where Kyle is and how he just randomly got there (no seriously, I currently have no idea—but I'll figure it out! No worries!).**

**What happened to Kenny? What's up with Stan all of a sudden—or is that even Stan? Maybe it's Damien, maybe it's not? Who can tell when I write from the depths of my screwed up, over-imaginative mind.**


	10. Welcome Back

**I could've sworn I had half of this chapter already written somewhere… Oh well, I'll just restart. I've got a few new ideas anyway ('bout time! It's been forever!). Eheh…about thaaat.**

**ON WITH THE STORY!**

I woke up in a bed. Soft, black sheets were under me. I sat up, not feeling drowsy at all. I didn't have a headache or anything, either. It was like I had been wide awake this entire time.

It didn't take me long to figure out where I was. The place where you died was sometimes hard to forget, a.k.a Damien's bedroom. I immediately felt scared.

"Good of you to finally wake up," Damien said, standing next to the bed. Judging by the angry look in his eyes and the annoyed expression, I could tell that this was not going to end well. The Son of the Devil was never someone you wanted to piss off; and it was apparent I had done something to do so.

I'm completely screwed.

"Wh-what am I doing here?" I asked, not exactly sure if I should move to get up or think of escape. After all, where would I go? This was Hell. The entire place was Damien's house and the only ones who knew how to leave was Kenny and Damien himself.

Damien watched me with his cold, red eyes. "I brought you here. It took me forever to find you, but I finally did." His chuckle unsettled me. "Kenny never used to be this much of a handful. I wonder why he's bothering so much to protect you…"

I ignored the softer tone in his voice. "Tell me what all is going on, Damien,"

Damien looked at me with what I can only assume as amusement. "Right to the point, just like always, Broflovski," he smiled, but I didn't return the favor. "Alright. To start it simply, have you ever wondered why Kenny can die and come back to life?"

I nodded.

"Well, that would be courtesy of me," he continued, plopping down on the couch in front of the bed. "I talked my dad into it a while ago. You see, I tend to get bored and a little lonely down here all by myself with nothing but the souls of the damned to keep me company. So, I managed to strike a deal with Kenneth after some…innocent convincing." He smiled a shark-tooth grin that sent shivers down my spine. Something told me it wasn't all that innocent.

"What did you do?" I had to ask.

"Oh, nothing really," Damien drawled. "Just threatened to kill any friends he ever made if he didn't agree…"

"You _what_?" I screeched. No wonder Kenny didn't want me to make the deal. He was trying to protect me. Wait a second…that meant… "You broke the deal!" I jumped off the bed to fully glare at him.

Damien looked less than intimidated. "Whatever are you talking about, Broflovski?" he asked me innocently.

"You…you killed Stan!" Tears were threatening to fall at the very thought. I wasn't about to let this asshole see me cry. Not if I could help it, that is.

"I didn't kill Stanley," he scoffed. "Don't you remember? That drunk pervert killed him. He would've killed you, too, if I hadn't stepped in."

I squinted at him. This was confusing the hell out of me—oh, if only it really was. What was he getting at? I wanted to know where Kenny and Stan were and if they were okay. I wanted to know what was happening to me. I wanted to know what was about that deal we shook on.

I wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

"So...," I started, trying to comprehend everything, "_you _saved _me_?" Damien nodded. "But you didn't save Stan?"

"There was good reasoning for that, Kyle,"

"And that would be?"

Damien looked at me and chuckled again, shaking his head. His ebony locks shaking back and fourth over his forehead. He stood and I was almost afraid of what he was going to do until he turned towards the door and waved for me to come. "Follow me, Kyle. I've got a little surprise for you."

I hesitated, going over the decision in my mind. On one hand, if I followed him, he could be leading me into another trap. On the other hand, if I didn't, he would get mad and send me to eternal suffering. Yeah, I decided to go ahead and follow.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we walked, yet again trying to drown out the sounds of screaming and pain all around me.

Damien kept up that all-knowing grin of his that I've realized annoys the shit out of me. "You'll see, just be patient. We're almost there."

We walked a few more minutes in silence. "You never answered my question," I said, remembering.

"Hmm?"

"My question. Why did you save me and not Stan?"

"Oh, that's an easy one, Kyle." He kept his eyes facing straight ahead. I could never tell what he was thinking anyway. "I needed you."

"But you ended up killing me anyway,"

He nodded. "Exactly. But I needed a reason for you to want to willingly be killed by my hand. I just never thought you would agree to it so easily. No questions asked—that was unlike you, Broflovski."

I frowned. "But what do you want me _for_?"

His grin grew wider and I never received an answer. He didn't speak again until we reached a large metallic door. Cliché. For some reason, I sort of saw this coming. He opened it up and it was too dark for me to see inside.

"What's in here?" I asked.

Damien stepped up to my side and smiled at me, waving his arms towards it invitingly. "Why don't you enter and see?" he said.

If that wasn't a hint that this was a trap, I didn't know what was. But, there was no going back now. I took in a deep breath and stepped inside the pitch-black room. Damien followed in step right behind me.

The inside of the room was pitch-dark aside from the object in the center of it. Damien shut the metal door behind me and I tried not to think of the fact that it had no handle or knob. We were in a large, empty, square cavern. In the middle was a podium stand with a paper and pen on it.

Damien led me over to it. I stood behind it and read the paper slowly and carefully. My eyes slowly widened and I heard Damien laughing lowly behind me. I turned to see what was so funny.

"Well, Kyle? Aren't you going to sign it?" he asked.

"This is the contract Kenny was talking about," I mumbled.

Damien nodded, bringing his hands up. "I don't know about that, but yes. This contract will officially seal the deal that you are mine to do with what I will."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What makes you think I'm going to sign this? As far as I know, you already let Stan go. You have nothing left to keep me here."

Oh, how I will always regret those words.

Damien's eyes sparked excitedly. "Oh really now?" He snapped his fingers and the rest of the room lit up. I gasped at what I saw.

Kenny chained to one wall and Stan chained to the other.

**So how was it for being the first chapter in forever? Was it worth the wait? I'm not too completely proud of it and I think it's sort of short, but I still wanted to keep the cliff-hanger thing I've been doing. xD**

**Read and review! **


End file.
